


A Little Less Crappy Motel, A Little More Kiss Me

by Ellimac



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fingering, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellimac/pseuds/Ellimac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from Purgatory, Dean and Benny aren't quite ready to say goodbye just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Crappy Motel, A Little More Kiss Me

“So,” Benny says. “What now?”

Dean shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. “Like we talked about, I guess.”

Benny looks down. “Then this is goodbye.” It’s barely hello, he doesn’t add; maybe we could spend some time together that doesn’t involve killing monsters, he keeps to himself; I don’t want this to be goodbye, Dean, I want to keep you in my life, I like you too much to lose you, he says, silently, with a look at his friend that surely, surely he can interpret.

Dean looks at him. It’s a long look, but not like he’s trying to figure Benny’s meaning. More like he’s trying to figure his own thoughts. His mouth moves like he’s thinking of what to say. It comes as a total surprise, though when he thinks about it later he wonders why, when Dean steps forward and kisses him. Kisses him hard. Heedless of the fangs, which start to slide out when Dean approaches on instinct, which he retracts because he doesn’t want to _hurt_ Dean, god, that’s the last thing he wants to do. He’s kissing back before he even knows what he’s doing.

It stops as suddenly as it started. Dean steps back and Benny looks at him, dusty, dirty, his breathing shallow and quick, his pulse throbbing in his throat, and he’s never seen him look better.

Dean clears his throat. “You keep your nose clean, Benny,” he says. “You hear me?”

“But we just got started…”

The words leave his mouth without passing through his brain first, but he’d have said them anyway. The look Dean gives him is not incredulous. It’s considering, maybe. Like he was hoping Benny would say something and now he’s just got to decide how to answer.

“Well, we both need a hell of a shower,” Dean says, finally. “We passed a motel a couple miles back. Not too far of a walk.” He raises his eyebrows, like Benny might not be up for it. Benny grins and reaches for his hand.

He means it to be a handshake, sealing the deal, but when Dean doesn’t let go as he starts walking, he sure as hell isn’t complaining.

\--

The motel’s got thin walls and an insect problem, and their room comes with two twin beds in questionable condition. It’s for the better, Dean says, because the crappier the motel, the less likely it is that they’ll question two guys who look like they haven’t showered in a year—which is more or less true. Benny takes his word for it. He’s never had that much experience with motels.

“Go check if there’s hot water,” Dean says. “I’ll get us set up out here.”

The bathroom’s tiny, mostly taken up by a tub that Benny wouldn’t trust to take a bath in, but it’ll do to stand in for a shower. The water is lukewarm at best, and he shuts it off so as not to waste it. He can hear Dean moving around in the other room, moving the furniture, and he can hear his heartbeat. He stops and listens to that for a little while. It sped up when Dean was thinking about kissing him. He could hear the blood rushing through Dean’s body. He’s not close enough now to hear it as well as he’d like, but he can fix that easily enough.

Dean’s put the two beds together in the middle of the room. It’s easy to see where they were from the rectangles of different-colored carpet, but Dean doesn’t seem to care. He’s sitting on the edge of one of the beds, and when he sees Benny leaning against the bathroom doorway, he flashes him a grin.

“Hey, brother,” Benny says. “Water’s warm, but it won’t last.”

“Better make the most of it, then,” Dean says, and as he gets to his feet, Benny knows exactly what’s going to happen, and he’s ready for it. He catches Dean and pulls him into the bathroom, and with one hand he fumble for the door so he can slam it shut, because Dean’s mouth is on his already and there’s nothing he wants more than to shove him against the door and grind on him until he’s begging for mercy. They never got the chance to do this in purgatory. Too many monsters, not enough crappy motel bathrooms.

Dean’s head slams against the door, and that’s got to hurt, but he just presses his mouth against Benny’s with renewed vigor. Benny’s got him pinned with his whole body now, and oh, _god_ does he love it. Dean sucks and bites at his lips, and Benny feels a chuckle bubbling up in his throat. Don’t think you’d want me to return the favor, sweetheart, he’d say if Dean were to give his lips a respite—but he doesn’t, and that’s even better.

They’ll never make it to the shower at this rate. Finally, when his lips are red and swollen and tingling, he shoves away and reaches for Dean’s belt. Dean tries to get to him again, to kiss him again, but Benny pushes him back, keeps him against the door with one hand.

“Benny,” Dean says, his voice rough and pleading.

“We came in here to shower,” Benny reminds him, and to his delight, his voice isn’t smooth, either. There’s no mistaking the arousal in his tone, and he sees Dean flush, his pupils dilated, his heartbeat _throbbing_ through his chest under Benny’s hand. “Hold still.”

“I thought we came in here to fuck,” Dean gasps out. Benny’s got his belt undone, and the zip of his jeans, and he thrusts his hand underneath to drag his hand up Dean’s cock. Dean’s head drops back and hits the door again, but Benny suspects the staggering “fuck” he gives is from Benny’s hand rather than the pain.

Benny leans in, his cheek against Dean’s. “We can do both,” he growls.

“Get your pants off,” Dean says. He reaches forward blindly, and his hands find Benny’s hips. He pulls down, but Benny’s fly is still zipped, and Benny laughs and removes his hand from inside Dean’s trousers to fiddle with his own.

Now, one thing Benny has to admit is that he hasn’t seen Dean in a lot of states. He’s seen him killing monsters, post-killing monsters, and pre-killing monsters. He’s seen him dirty, and a little less dirty after he’s had a quick wash in the stream. He saw the look on his face when they found the angel. But he’s never seen him like this, and it makes him want to fucking _die_. The way his chest heaves, the way he yanks off his shirt when Benny steps away to properly get out of his pants, the way he _looks_ at Benny—if there was ever a god, he must’ve been smirking the whole time he was making Dean Winchester.

Benny turns his back so he can get the water on. Dean’s at him in a second, and Benny turns and wraps his arms around him, trapping him there against his chest. He slides his leg forward to press between Dean’s, and Dean groans.

“Get in the shower, sweetheart,” Benny says. “Or the water’s gonna go cold.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean growls. “You’re hot enough for me.”

Benny laughs and slaps his rear. Not hard, hardly on purpose, but Dean practically jumps out of his skin and _moans_. Benny watches him for a moment, his mind sparking with ideas, and says, “C’mon.”

Somehow they manage to step over the edge of the tub and pull the curtain closed without hurting themselves, and without letting go of each other. Benny keeps his hands on Dean’s ass and pulls him closer than necessary, so by the time the lukewarm water hits them, Dean’s shivering already.

“Okay,” Benny says, “what do you wanna do, babe?”

Dean draws a ragged breath. “Damn it. Just kiss me.”

He suits action to words before Benny can, his lips locking onto Benny’s almost before he’s finished speaking. He sucks at Benny’s lower lip, pulling it into his mouth, and in turn Benny squeezes his ass and Dean whimpers, _whimpers_ into his mouth.

“If I knew you would make these sounds, I’d have fucked you a lot sooner,” Benny says, his voice low against Dean’s lips.

“You’re not exactly fucking me now,” Dean murmurs back.

Benny laughs. “You wanna walk to the nearest drugstore and buy lube and condoms, be my guest.”

Dean swears, and swears again, and doesn’t stop until Benny lets go with one hand to pull along Dean’s cock, instead. If he can just make Dean squirm like this all night, hell, Dean doesn’t even have to _touch_ him.

But Dean has other ideas. He breaks the kiss, despite Benny latching onto his upper lip (teeth only, no fangs) and starts to kiss down Benny’s neck, his shoulders, his chest. Benny moans, and shudders when Dean bites his hip.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Dean says, now on his knees, and gazing up at Benny like—damn, like he doesn’t even know what.

“I’d like it even more if you put those precious lips around my cock, Dean,” Benny says.

Dean grins up at him. Benny revises his earlier opinion: _now_ he’s never seen Dean look better. And he revises it again when Dean cups his ass and slides Benny’s cock into his mouth. His hand slides through Dean’s hair and he groans, and Dean looks up at him with those green, green eyes and starts to suck. Oh, _hell_. Benny’s fingers twist, and Dean lets him pull him closer, until Benny can feel his throat working around his cock.

“Fuck me,” Benny moans. Dean knows what he’s doing, has had practice, and that only makes this better. He slides back, and then in again, and Benny lets his hair go to pet his temple.

“Dean,” he says, “I’m gonna fuck your face, okay?”

Dean moans, and though his mouth is a little too busy to give an answer, Benny takes the flutter of his eyelids and the sudden speed of his heartbeat as a resounding yes. He grasps Dean’s hair tightly, holding him in place, and _fucks_.

And by god—by whatever, it’s the best sex he’s ever had. Because it’s not just the feel, it’s not just that Dean’s holding in place, that he knows he would even without the hand in his hair—it’s every sound Dean makes. The bastard’s enjoying this. It’s gotta be rough, but he’s moaning like a porn star, like getting fucked in the face is gonna make him come too, if it lasts long enough.

The way things are going, he doubts Dean’ll care, but he says anyway, “Is it all right if I come in your mouth?”

Dean’s answer is to press closer. Benny groans and Dean starts _sucking_ again and he’s done for. He holds Dean there until he’s spent, and when he lets go, Dean falls back, hitting his elbows on the bathtub floor. His mouth is wide open and red, and he’s panting, and his cock is hard against his belly. Benny leans against the wall and admires him.

“That was,” Benny says, “the best damn blowjob of my life.”

“This is the worst shower I’ve ever given one in,” Dean says.

Only then does Benny notice that the water is no longer lukewarm, but icy cold. He reaches for the faucet to turn it off as Dean slowly gets to his feet.

Benny nods toward his erection. “You want me to return the favor?”

“I want,” Dean says, stepping forward, “to keep having sex with you until we’re both so fucked out we can’t even move.”

Benny flashes a grin, even though the statement makes him weak at the knees. “That might be a while.”

Dean kisses him. “Perfect.”

The beds are too damn far away to try to make it without letting their lips part, so Benny picks Dean up bridal style and carries him over. There’s so much he wants to do to him, but he’s gotta start somewhere, and that somewhere is climbing onto the bed over him and kissing him, _kissing_ him, holding him down with one hand while the other slides down his cock slowly a few times, then down, until he pushes a finger inside him and Dean practically yelps.

“I thought we weren’t doing that,” he says, in a tone that indicates he’s _very_ glad they are.

“I didn’t say no penetration,” Benny says. “Just no condoms. If you’re fine—”

“I am more than fine.” Dean spreads his legs wide, giving Benny a beautiful view of his whole body. “Fuck me.”

Benny’s pretty sure it’s not meant as a command, but he’s more than happy to obey. He thrusts his finger inside and Dean moans. And then he has an idea.

He leans forward to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Stop me if you need to, sweetheart.” Dean doesn’t answer—probably take too many brain cells—but Benny knows he heard him, at least, so he starts kissing down Dean’s neck, taking a moment to suck at his nipple.

“Brother,” he says softly, between kisses, “I’m gonna turn you into jelly.”

In other circumstances, it might be a threat. Now, not even close. Not where Benny’s heading. His hand moves from his shoulder to his hip, and his other hand withdraws enough to add another finger. Gonna fuck you senseless, Benny whispers, or maybe just thinks.

He stops when his lips reach Dean’s hip and looks up at him. Dean’s not looking, his eyes turned upward, his chest heaving. Benny plants a kiss to his hip, then a bite to get his attention, and Dean practically yelps.

“Hey,” Benny says. “You trust me, brother?”

“You planning on biting my dick?” Dean manages.

Benny laughs, his fingers curling inside Dean. “Not unless you’re into that.”

Dean’s head falls back again, and he mutters a few curses before answering. “I trust you.”

Maybe it’s not smart to face so much temptation so soon after getting back, but this is Dean. And hell if he doesn’t look gorgeous laid out like this, panting from Benny’s fingers moving in him, hands gripping the mattress like he’s gonna fall into the ceiling if he doesn’t. And of course, there’s his cock, practically _begging_ for attention.

He runs his tongue along the length of it, and Dean moans, his legs jerking out. His free hand curls around the base of Dean’s cock, and his lips slide over the top of it, taking in just the head at first and pressing his tongue to it.

“Oh, Jesus, Benny—” Dean says, and it’s _so_ satisfying, but Benny’s not done yet. He spreads his fingers inside him and slides his mouth down further, swirling his tongue, and when Dean moans long and loud, _then_ he starts sucking.

Dean makes a sound between a yelp and a squeak, and Benny smirks around his cock. His eyes flicker up to Dean’s face, but again he’s not looking, his eyes tightly closed as he clings to the bed like a drowning man. He’s close, Benny thinks, and shoves his fingers in as far as they’ll go. Dean arches off the bed and Benny presses him back down. He closes his eyes and listens—to Dean’s moans, to his breathing, to his heartbeat.

Dean comes without announcement, which is fine with Benny. He likes the taste of him anyway. He withdraws his fingers and sits up, and there’s Dean, sprawled out, just as fucked-out as he said he wanted to be. For a second Benny gets a flash of Dean, just as naked, but with his legs hooked over Benny’s shoulders as Benny pounds into him.

Another time. Another time, when they have lube and condoms and time to take turns fucking each other into the mattress. For now, he crawls up and lies beside Dean, kissing his cheek and collarbone and neck until Dean rolls to his side and kisses Benny’s lips.

“Jesus,” Dean says. “That was amazing.”

“You’re telling me,” Benny says. “You always make that face when you come?”

Dean pushes Benny onto his back and climbs on top of him. “You’re gonna have to let me know,” he growls, his voice deep with satisfaction.

Benny wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “Another time, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for you.”

“Next time?” Dean says, his voice ridiculously hopeful, though he tries to cover it by ducking down and kissing Benny’s neck.

“Next time,” Benny says, stroking his hair. “Right now I think you and I both need a rest.”

It’s a promise, he realizes. They will see each other again, and they will do this again. It shouldn’t flood him with such an intense feeling of relief, but it does. It does for Dean, too, he guesses, because Dean lays his head down on Benny’s chest and his fingers curl around Benny’s arm, and his voice is soft as he says, “Next time.”


End file.
